


Sweet and Sweeter

by ClaudiaWrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Love Confessions, Marauders, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sexual Tension, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17786099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaudiaWrites/pseuds/ClaudiaWrites
Summary: Lily Evans seemingly hates Valentine's Day. And yet, one head of messy black hair does seem to change her opinion a lot.





	Sweet and Sweeter

**Author's Note:**

> A very happy Valentine's + (belated) Galentine's day to all of my lovely friends on Tumblr, and to my wonderful readers. May your coming days be filled with love, laughter and joy.

** Sweet & Sweeter **

“Ugh, I cannot take it anymore, really. Have they always been this _shrill_?”

“Yes they have,” Mary giggled at my pain, the true heathen that she was. “Only, you haven’t always been so caustic and _judgy_.”

“What?!” I squawked, knowing she had a point but refusing to acknowledge it. “You’re kidding me right, Mary? I’ve _always_ hated how flighty Hogwarts gets around this time, with proposals and hearts and _glitter_ and squeals streaming in from every nook and cranny—”

“Lily—”

Her voice was cut off as another telling shriek of delight sounded from the floor below us, and it was obnoxious enough that even Mary cringed with annoyance.

“Really though, has the school gone _barmy_?” I sped up, “They’ve allowed a fucking Hogsmeade outing on _Valentine’s Day_?! It just makes the whole thing even more unbearable.”

Mary sighed, looking at me like _I_ was the barmy one. I promptly scoffed, not allowing myself to wither in front of her glare, and continued stomping my way through the corridor. We were almost to the Gryffindor common room when she spoke up again.

“You _know_ why you’re being so bitter, don’t you, Lily? I’m sure you don’t need me to spell it out for you?”

“I have _no_ idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay jeez, seems like you _do_ need me to spell it out for you,” she said, overtaking me to block my path. I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest as I tapped my foot to show her exactly how impatient I was with her ribbing.

Mary thought I was being ridiculous though, because the next second, she had gently grabbed hold of my shoulders and was staring seriously into my eyes. “It’s because you _haven’t_ been asked out for tomorrow,” she said slowly, dramatically.

Because I haven’t… _what?!_

My jaw dropped in affront. Really, the _nerve_ of her.

“That’s some serious bullshit,” I threw at her smugly, brushing her hands away. She thought she was so clever, but I’d show her. Ha. “I have _so_ been asked out. By no less than three boys, in fact!”

“Yes, that’s all very nice for you, Lily, and _why_ haven’t you said yes to any of them, exactly?”

“Obviously because I find this whole Valentine’s idea absolutely ridiculous, like I’ve been telling you since this morning!” I huffed.

“Yeah, _right_ ,” Mary snorted loudly, “you keep telling yourself that, but we both know the _real_ reason behind your mood.”

“Excuse me?”

“ _Dragon’s Egg_ ,” She told the portrait in lieu of replying, and I had no choice but to follow her in. It was getting dark outside, and yet, the common room was considerably empty, meaning that students would soon start returning from wherever they’d been. Mary and I quickly made our way towards the couch in front of the roaring fireplace, lest it become captured by someone else.

Once we’d settled ourselves, I gave her a meaningful look, which was met with a deep, long-suffering sigh. “You know what I mean, Lily, don’t make me say it because I _know_ you’ll flip your lid.”

“And I keep _telling_ you I have no idea—”

“Well, it’s because of Potter, obviously.”

“I— _what_?” I reeled back in shock, blinking slowly. “ _James_? What’s he got to do with this?”

“Here we go,” Mary threw her hands up in the air, looking for all the world as if I was being dense on purpose. The weird, bubbling sensation in the pit of my stomach upon hearing his name only increased as she fixed me with a hard glare, the browns of her irises leaving no room for argument. “You want _him_ to ask you out.”

“I— _what_?” I repeated, feeling my face immediately heat up at her words. And mortifyingly, my heart-rate picked up, trying to escape her all-knowing gaze. “That’s _not_ true. James is my best mate and nothing more.”

“Yeah, because you’re both morons who refuse to act on your feelings.”

“Again, not true. He’s completely wonderful and lovely, I admit. And _okay_ , he’s no longer the prat I used to think he was. And not too hard on the eyes either…but he’s not—and I’m not—he doesn’t _think_ of me that way,” I finished, deflating considerably. My face burned, knowing that I sounded like a kicked puppy, and yet, when I raised my head, instead of finding Mary’s expression smug at my admission like I’d _expected_ , I encountered a flying pillow to the face.

“ _Oi_!” I yelped, “What the fuck?”

“I quit!” She scolded, glaring at me fiercely. I frowned in confusion to show her that I had no idea what she was on about, but the girl was on a rant. “It’s impossible! You’re _so_ …Merlin, you’re _so_ blind. For a witch supposedly as smart as you, Lily, you’re really fucking daft.”

“I feel appreciated.”

“You’ll only find the hard truth here. Go to James for appreciation, darling.”

“Maybe I _will_.”

I probably shouldn’t have said those words, because as if on cue—as if the Gods above _really_ had it out for me—the portrait hole to the common room swung open to welcome a boisterous group of Gryffindors.

A group being led by James Potter.

A group being led by a very _sweaty_ James Potter in his Quidditch robes.

As it were, I was plenty accustomed to seeing James roam around in his Quidditch gear, and _yes_ , I was but a mere seventeen year-old witch with hormones that liked to appreciate the opposite gender, but I was usually able to keep this attraction under wraps. And yet, as soon as my eyes fell on his—admittedly _very_ fit—form, I immediately turned my face away, feeling it blaze something horrendous.

Mary raised her eyebrows at my desperate attempt to go unnoticed and cackled loudly.

I hated her, truly.

“Merlin, don’t scare off the children, MacDonald,” Sirius piped up as he fell onto the empty armchair.

I cursed my luck, because the only space left now was beside me on the couch, and while the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team dispersed into their dorms for a shower, the same could not be said about the two marauders on the team.

No sooner had Mary retorted with, “You stink, Black,” that I felt the cushion dip next to me as a heavy weight fell onto it.

“It’s the stench of hard work,” James groaned, his head dropping onto my shoulder. “Bloody fucking hell, I’m so exhausted.” His soft, crazy strands brushed against my already flaming cheek, and _completely_ rendered me immobile.

I guess it was really inevitable then, that James, who was honestly way too perceptive for his own good (and mine), immediately caught on to my sudden stiff posture, and slowly raised his head to look at my face.

 “Lil?” His pointer finger reached out to prod me gently. “You okay?”

Why did he always have to smell so nice? Even when he was all sweaty and grimy? Wasn’t that grossly unfair and also, _impossible_?

“Oh don’t mind her,” Mary said with a toss of her hand, “she’s been in a mood since morning.”

“No I haven’t!” I snapped, throwing her a glare. “It’s just all this crap about Valentine’s Day, and people squealing everywhere! It’s giving me a headache. Utterly pointless, the whole thing, if you ask me. Everyone’s so desperate for a date, but they’re all bound to drop each other by the end of the week.”

With a heavy sigh, I tucked back a strand of red hair, and my eyes shifted to find Sirius staring at me weirdly. But before I could question him, James made a strangled noise at the back of his throat.

“Oh,” He said.

I blinked in surprise, not just at his response, but also at the tone. I shared a look with Mary—and she was _entirely_ unhelpful because all she did was stare at me pointedly—before turning around to face James properly.

The boy in question was determinedly avoiding eye contact with me, a strange sort of clench to his jaw as he partook in a seemingly intense conversation with Sirius simply through expressions.

“Right,” He said, suddenly standing up and shouldering his broomstick that had been previously leaning against the couch. I tried to catch his eye, but it seemed like I wasn’t imagining it; he was _actually_ avoiding looking at me. “I’m gonna head up and take a shower, maybe sleep for bit. Don’t think I’ll be down for dinner. Goodnight.”

“What? James—”

“Prongs, mate—”

But he ignored us completely, and if he’d walked away any faster, I would have wagered there to be fire biting at his heels.

As soon as James had disappeared from view, Sirius clicked his tongue in irritation, making me turn towards him. My eyebrows rose in surprise when I found his grey eyes, cold as ice shards, glaring into my soul.

“ _Really_ , Evans?”

“What?!” I threw my hands up, entirely fed up of everyone rounding up on me. “What the fuck did I do?”

“It’s pointless,” Mary chimed in, shaking her head ruefully. She looked at Sirius as her palm gestured towards me, “I’ve already tried. She doesn’t see it.”

“I don’t care,” Sirius grumbled, “Now Prongs is going to be in a flunk for the rest of the night and probably tomorrow as well. All because Evans couldn’t—” He stopped speaking.

“ _What_?” I hissed, “Evans couldn’t _what_? Either tell me, or shut the fuck up, Sirius.”

“I would if I could,” He sneered, “But it’s not my place, and Prongs would kill me besides.”

I scoffed, and shot up from the couch irritably. There was a tell-tale pricking behind my eyelids, and I was _so_ not ready for the waterworks to unleash themselves there in the middle of the common room.

I knew my face was impossibly red and the glaze in my eyes wasn’t very subtle when Mary’s and Sirius’s gazes finally turned concerned. But I didn’t care—I just wanted to get away from there.

“I’m sorry I’m not suddenly adept at reading people’s minds, okay? If there’s a problem, I’d rather just _talk_ it out, like a _normal_ person. Now, if you’d excuse me, I’d like some peace of mind.” With that said, I quickly ran up the stairs towards my dormitory, ignoring Mary’s calls.

* * *

 

I’d fallen asleep at an appallingly early hour.

The realization hit me only when I found myself wide awake in the middle of the night, and promptly cursed myself for surrendering to slumber so early with a whirlwind of troubling thoughts.

I tossed and turned for a good while before accepting that I wouldn’t be getting more sleep anytime soon. And when my stomach grumbled angrily at the lack of food—since I’d _stupidly_ skipped dinner—I threw my legs over the bed and slipped my feet into my soft bunny slippers.

There was a small note on the bedside table that caught my eye then.

_Lily,_

_I’m sorry I’m such an idiot. You can yell at me tomorrow all you like, and I promise I won’t complain. I’d tell you this while you were conscious, but you might hex me if I wake you._

_P.S. – Sirius said he forgives you, which is basically ‘sorry’ in Arsehole-speak._

_Love you,_

_M._

I smiled softly, looking at the sleeping form of Mary, and chuckled quietly to myself before grabbing my wand and padding out of the room.

Being the head girl at Hogwarts really had its perks. For instance, I could slip out at ungodly hours for an unprecedented trip to the kitchens, and no one would bat an eye. Because it would be just me, the _head girl_ , out to check whether everything was in order or not.

And just _casually_ stopping by the kitchen while I did so wasn’t too heinous of an act now, was it?

I was so happily contemplating these thoughts as I bounded down the stairs and into the common room that I all but missed the tall figure that was draped across the couch.

Only, the figure did not miss me.

“Lily?!”

“ _WHAAAA_ —” I jumped a foot in the air, hand clutched at my thundering heart as I turned towards the source of the sound. I assume I must’ve looked something akin to a deer caught in the headlights, what with my frizzy bed hair and impossibly wide eyes, gaping outright. “Merlin, are you _trying_ to kill me, James?”

Because of _course_ it was him. My luck would never allow for it to be anyone else. And of _course_ he looked absolutely god-like, sprawled out on the sofa while the quiet fire bathed him in a soft, surreal light. He might have been something out of a classic painting, were it not for his flannel pajamas and crazy, wind-swept hair, which, at this hour of the night, was giving me decidedly un-pure thoughts to contend with.

It was only after he raised his hands, pleading innocent, and grinned at me sheepishly—thus sending the butterflies in my stomach on a rampage—that I lowered my wand. Incidentally, it was also then that I realized I had it pointed at him in the first place.

“What are you doing up so late?” James asked, waving me over.

I debated for a second before realizing I was being utterly stupid, and walked towards him. “Could ask you the same thing, you know.”

“Of course you would,” He rolled his hazel eyes, “how could you _ever_ answer something straight away?”

“Oh thank _God_ ,” I gushed, my eyes immediately zeroing in on the pile of snacks and chocolates James was harboring on his lap. “I’m absolutely starving. Scoot over.”

He did as he was told, and I quickly made myself comfortable on the couch, my legs draped over James’s, and my back propped up against the armrest. We dumped the food on my lap so that it was within easy reach for the both of us.

“Skipped dinner then, did you?” James spoke up from around his licorice wand. His lips momentarily pulled back into a smirk. “Couldn’t bear the thought of having dinner without me, Evans?”

“Ha, you wish,” I scoffed, bumping my foot against his knee, “it would spare me from having to stare at half-chewed food, at least.”

“You don’t have to stare at me at _all_.”

“You might die from the lack of attention, James.”

“I might.”

“Besides,” I said, feeling a sudden spurt of bravery even as my neck grew warm, “I need my daily dose of James Potter too. Not staring is out of the question.”

I knew the words had hit their mark when his bright eyes landed on me with a maddeningly unreadable look.

I didn’t mind though; I could stare at James right then, sitting there, inches away from me, for the rest of my sad, pathetic life. The side of his face that was illuminated by the fire outlined the shadow of a stubble growing along his defined jaw. His full lips were set into a soft, contemplative curve, the thick frames of his glasses sitting a little crooked on his nose. The hazel in his eyes looked like a complex palette of colors that I’d never get used to, and I was trying to separate the shades I could discern—yellow, green, purple so far—when he sighed heavily, breaking me out of my trance.  

“You drive me mad, Lily, you know that?”

“Um,” the heat traveled up to my cheeks, “what?”

“You say and do all these things,” James made a vague gesture with his hands, flailing them around wildly, “and I start to think…but then you also say—ugh, _never mind_.”

“What the _hell_? Not this again!” I cried, feeling annoyance spark true and heavy in my chest. “Does anyone around here ever finish what they’re saying? This has been going on for far too long and I’m honestly sick of it. I _get_ it—there’s something terrible I did, absolutely horrible, but I’m too dumb to see it— _fine_. I admit it. Now would you please just—”

“Wait, what?” James cocked an eyebrow at me, “you did something horrible?”

“I guess so, from the way everyone’s been acting. You, with your stomping away in anger, and Sirius and Mary with their ‘ _Lily you’re so blind_ ’.” My voice took on a pitch that I wasn’t too proud of, and the corners of James’s mouth twitched.

“Look, I—” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, and you didn’t do anything horrible. I’m just…well, terrible at managing emotions, and you already know I act like a prat around you—”

“Well now, that’s just part of your personality, don’t blame _me_ for it.”

“Oh, shut up.”

I chuckled fondly at him before knocking my foot against his leg again. James smiled back easily enough, but there was still a lingering hesitance in his eyes that I absolutely _hated_. And if the ponce thought that I would let it slide, well, he had another thing coming.

“Alright enough,” I said, dusting off the crumbs from my hands before pushing aside the empty wrappers and leftover chocolates as I dragged my bum across the couch to sit closer to him. “Look at me, James.”

His smile turned amused, even as the light in his eyes grew softer. “I’m looking at you, Lily.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I mean, _depends_ —”

“You arsehole, I’m serious.”

James chuckled, flicking my nose playfully. “Of course I trust you, you madwoman.”

“And will you be honest with me?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you get upset this evening?”

And suddenly, just like that, the playful smile was gone, the light in his eyes dimmed considerably, and a small frown pulled at his mouth. “I wasn’t—”

“James,” I interjected, reaching out to take one of his hands in both of mine. “You said you’d be honest.”

He shut his mouth, a muscle feathering his jaw as he stared at me for a few, terse, silent seconds. And then, after what felt like an eternity, he exhaled on an annoyed breath. “That’s not _fair_ , Lily. You can’t do this.”

But I already felt victory swell in my chest, because an annoyed James was better than a closed-off James.

“You can’t back out now,” I teased. “So tell me, why were you upset?”

James was clearly undergoing an internal conflict, because after a few more beats of silent staring, he rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly with his free hand, and then closed his eyes. I raised a dubious brow, but before I could open my mouth to ask him what the hell he was doing, the words flowed out of him in a rush.

“I was upset because you said that you hated Valentine’s Day, and that anyone who got together on the day were destined to break up soon enough, and that kind of sucked, like a _lot_ , because I was planning on asking you out for tomorrow, but now I realize that it was a stupid idea, and I may have _completely_ ruined our friendship, and if that’s the case then I basically want to go and strangle myself—”

That’s as far as I was willing to let him go.

Using the hand that I still held between my own as leverage, I propelled myself forward and towards James with uncontrolled euphoria. My lips crashed against his, effectively cutting off his words as my mouth swallowed his utterly _idiotic_ , self-deprecating rant.

In all of the two seconds that it took James to realize what was happening, I had already wound my fingers into his thick strands and straddled his hips. And _after_ he’d caught on…well, we were a mighty hot mess of limbs and hands and mouths, grasping at each other in a desperate attempt to get closer.

James’s hand had traveled under my t-shirt to rest against my back, his fingers just shy of grazing the clasp of my bra. He had me pulled flush against his chest, his lips sliding over mine as he left long, languid kisses that were sweet enough to break my heart. One of my hands cupped his face, stroking against his cheekbone as the other played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. When my tongue brushed lightly against his, and that led to another mad ignition of hormones, I realized that we needed oxygen to breathe and _think_ clearly.

And so I pulled away slowly, much to both our bodies’ complaints. And yet, when James leaned forward petulantly again, I couldn’t help but leave a lingering kiss on his lips.

“Okay, no, _stop_ ,” I giggled, putting a hand on his chest to help push myself away from him because clearly my body was having trouble resisting. “We need to do this properly. I’m sure we’re quite a few steps ahead already given that I haven’t even been asked out yet.”

James’s eyes were a little glazed as he stared at me, his thumb absent-mindedly brushing across my thigh. “But I thought—I thought you hated Valentine’s?”

“No, you dork,” I ruffled his hair, “That was _me_ being a prat. I was just jealous and supremely brassed off because you hadn’t asked me out, and Mary wouldn’t stop being baldly honest about it, which was _not_ something I wanted to hear right then.”

James perked up at that, a large, bright grin spreading across his face as he took hold of the hand I had planted against his chest. “Be my Valentine, Lily.”

I laughed merrily, feeling an ever-expanding bubble of warmth growing in my chest. “I’d _love_ to be your—”

“Awesome,” He said, before dropping down his head to kiss me again.

“But I haven’t even _said_ yes yet!”

“You take too much time, and you taste like chocolates. You can’t blame me, Lil.”

And really, who was I to counter such an argument?


End file.
